Uncover
by The Nature Of Randomness
Summary: Padmé Naberrie is forcibly wed to the mysterious Darth Vader. Things begin to change when she come across a mysterious cache. As more and more facts no longer add up, Padmé makes it her personal mission to find out what exactly has been going on.
1. Chapter 1

Hi! Welcome to my second-ever fic. This is a Vader/Padmé fic, obviously. While the summary gives the best, well, summary, there is a bit more background info you might want to know, starting with the fact that this fic is very AU. Padmé was never the queen of Naboo or a senator, just the child of two wealthy people on Naboo. Most other things that require explanation or reasons will be explained during the course of the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars.

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Five weeks ago, Padmé Naberrie's life was perfectly ordinary. She was preparing to be married to Palo, the young man her parents had arranged for her to wed. She spent most of her time with her family and close friends, planning and prepping. The most important things on her mind were which wedding dress to choose and whether or not she could learn to love this man.

Five days ago, Padmé Naberrie's life was shaken to the core. Her father received a note, straight from the Emperor himself. His daughter, only twenty-three years old, was requested on Imperial Center. She was to be married to Darth Vader, dark lord of the Sith, cold-blooded killer. Padmé felt numb.

Five hours ago, Padmé Naberrie's life was flashing before her eyes. After arriving on Imperial Center, she had been escorted to the Emperor's private sitting room. He gave her a twisted speech, something to do with children and performing experiments. Padmé, still numb, was escorted to a bedchamber.

Five minutes ago, Padmé Naberrie's life was made momentarily better; she was told she wouldn't meet her future husband until the next morning. She slowly drifted off into a dreamless slumber.

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Please review! Future chapters will be much longer; this is just a prologue of sorts. I am also kind of looking for a beta reader, so if anyone would be willing, please PM me. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter two! Most updates will not be so frequent, because this is a work in progress.

Have you ever seen that show, "Magic's Biggest Secrets Finally Revealed?" Well, the magician's mask in that show is more of what Vader's 'suit' and mask is based off of in this fic, with some differences. Vader's is a black cloth suit (with cloudy coverings, sort of like "flat-goggles" built into the mask part to see out of, though no one can see in) that he wears under robes. His voice is edited slightly by machinery built into the fabric, and is made to be deeper than his natural voice. I hope that description makes sense! I'll post a link to a photo of the magician on my profile as soon as I can if you want to see.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, Magic's Biggest Secrets Finally Revealed, or anything else you may recognize.

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The sweet smell of breakfast pastries baking, the peaceful whir of a fan, the feel of a soft pillow beneath her head, those were the things Padmé was expecting as she slowly woke up. Instead, she was greeted by the sharp odor of disinfectant, the sight of eerily blank walls and a far too-hard sleepcouch. It took her a moment to realize where she was, but once she did, she sat straight up, a jolt of fear running through her body.

This morning she was going to meet her future husband, the infamous Darth Vader. Padmé didn't know why he had chosen her, out of all the people in the universe, to marry. She wasn't even sure how he knew she existed, yet for some reason, he had picked her and now here she was. While Padmé mostly felt fear and repugnance with the situation, a small part of her felt a sick curiosity. She had always been a bit interested in the mysterious dark figure, who he was, where he came from. Why did he keep himself covered from head to foot in a strange, cloth-like suit? Even his eyes were hidden behind strange coverings. Was he human? Though his general shape was right, it was impossible to know for sure. She wondered why Darth Vader would even want a wife. The Emperor had mentioned children in their talk, if you could call it that, the day before, but why take a wife for that? The empire could steal children from parents, it had happened before. And what about the experiments he had mentioned? Did Vader want children to experiment on, torture? The thought made her shudder, so she closed her eyes against the image.

Padmé suddenly missed Palo with a burning intensity. It would have only been four months until their planned wedding back on Naboo. While she hadn't particularly wanted to marry him, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that she would far rather be there, listening to his shrill voice, than anywhere near where she was now. Palo wasn't a bad person; he was financially stable, came from a good family and had known Padmé since they were younglings in school. Padmé's life with him would have been good enough, she wouldn't have had the fairy-tale, all-encompassing love she dreamt about now and again, but it would have done. She could only imagine what her life would be like now.

Padmé's reflections were cut short when the single narrow door into the bedchamber slowly slid open. A light clattering sound reached her ears as her heart jumped into her throat. Padmé dug her nails into her palms, forced a neutral expression on her face and steeled herself to come face-to-face with one of the galaxy's most feared men. Instead, a tall golden droid clumsily ambled its way inside. Padmé's muscles relaxed as she realized it wasn't Vader. She had never seen a droid quite like this one before; it certainly didn't seem to be any of the standard empire-issued droids she had seen so far.

"Hello, I am C-3P0!" The droid announced perkily, stopping just short of the sleepcouch where Padmé sat. "Are you Mistress Padmé?"

"Yes," Padmé replied, growing curious.

"I am meant to bring you to my master's chambers. Please follow me, it's only a short walk," the droid replied.

"Who is your master?" Padmé asked, already sure of the answer.

"Oh dear, I should have told you right away," he apologized. "Lord Vader, of course. I'm meant to bring you to his chamber."

Padmé stood, straightened out her clothes, rumpled from sleeping in them all night, and nodded to C-3P0. If this was going to happen, there was nothing she could do about it. Being stubborn or putting up a fight would likely only end badly, perhaps even with her death, and she couldn't let herself be taken over with fear. If she was going to be married to Darth Vader, she decided she'd better try to be brave. "I'm ready," she said. The droid turned awkwardly, and Padmé followed him out of the room.

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After a brief walk through seemingly-identical hallways, C-3P0 stopped in front of a large door. "Here we are!" He announced. Padmé took a deep breath and relaxed her muscles as the droid entered a long code of numbers into the keypad. The door slid open with a whoosh. Padmé followed the droid inside, her stomach beginning to feel sick despite her best efforts to remain calm.

Darth Vader was standing just inside the door, arms crossed, as if he had been kept waiting too long for his liking. He was tall and imposing, scarier in person that she ever could have imagined. Padmé forced herself to look up him, wondering what he was going to say. A few moments passed with Vader apparently looking her over. "Welcome," his deep voice, coming from the silence, made her jump.

Padmé didn't know what to say. Her heart suddenly felt as if it was beating five times faster than normal and she couldn't quite get a deep enough breath. "I was sent here," she finally managed, not quite sure whether she meant from Naboo or simply by the golden droid. Vader said nothing, but uncrossed his arms and gestured, obviously meaning that Padmé should look around. She realized that they were in a large sitting area. There were two uncomfortable looking black couches set up in the middle of the room, in front of them sat a small table. A large holovision hung on the wall and next to it was a shelf of holovids. There was nothing else in the room, despite its large size.

"Sit," Vader commanded, nodding towards the couches. "We have much to discuss." Padmé did as she was told and Vader sat across from her.

His head swiveled her way as he began to speak. "You know that you were brought here to be my wife?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Good. Then I will let you know that I have no interest in taking a wife. My master is the one who commanded that I do so." Padmé wasn't sure what to think about that, so she remained quiet. "There are two purposes for this union," he continued. "The first is for public publicity, a distraction. The empire wants new headlines to take citizens' interest from the rebel alliance, remove them from the spotlight. The second purpose is to produce children. Do you understand?"

"Why…?" was all Padmé could get out. She was uncomfortable in the presence of the Sith lord, and his stark, clipped manner of speaking was unnerving.

"I am unsure of his reasons," Vader replied, somehow knowing what she wanted to ask. "But I will do my master's bidding."

The two fell silent for a few moments. C-3P0, feeling forgotten, took the opportunity to speak up and remind them of his presence. "Oh, children! I remember when those…"

"Silence!" Vader called, causing the golden droid to stop mid-sentence. Padmé cringed inside for him; she couldn't help but like the friendly, nervous droid and wondered again what sort of droid he was and what he was doing in the service of Vader.

"What kind of droid is he?" She couldn't help but ask as curiosity got the best of her. "I haven't seen any others like him around here. Is he old?"

"Protocol," Vader replied. "I don't know how old he is."

"I've been keeping an eye on Master Vader since he…" C-3P0 began, but again was cut off by the dark lord.

"Enough," the dark lord rumbled. "Leave us."

"Oh dear," the dejected droid exclaimed as he scuttled for the door.

"Infuriating droid," Vader remarked, and Padmé almost thought she heard a tinge of amusement in his voice. She must have imagined it. He continued, "Our wedding is set for next week. It will not be a formal affair, just a quick ceremony here, and will be released to the press as a 'shock story' sometime during the following week. After our wedding, you will move from your room to here. We will remain in Imperial City for at least the next six months, as I have orders to do so. Is this clear?"

"Yes," Padmé replied, everything suddenly feeling surreal. She had only a week until she was wed to this monster? And it was quite apparent that he had every intention of consummating their marriage. The thought made her sick, but what could she do? Hopelessness washed over Padmé like storm clouds on a sunny day.

"Good," Vader said. "Over the course of the next week, you will be prepped. For now, you may leave." Padmé nodded, but realized something as she stood up.

"Lo...Lord Vader?" It was the first time she had spoken his name, and for some reason it just didn't want to roll off her tongue.

"Yes?" he asked. If she were going to be his wife, Padmé deserved to know some things, and as far as she was concerned, she had two choices. She could either sit back and go along with everything, or she could start to ask questions and hopefully get some answers. She realized that fighting and trying to put down her heels wouldn't get her out of the situation, but at least she could have some sense of control. Her earlier decision to be brave came to mind, so she decided to press forward.

"Why me?"

"What do you mean?" he humored her.

"Why did you choose me? For this? How did you even know I exist?"

"This is all my master's doing," he replied. "I have no idea who you are." His words only brought more questions to Padmé's mind.

"Do you want to get married?" She asked.

"What I want does not matter. I will do my master's bidding." Padmé was taken aback by the feeling that washed over her as he answered. She suddenly felt a bizarre kinship to him, to a cold blooded killer. Her desires ceased to matter when she was summoned to this place, but it seemed his hadn't mattered in a long time, if ever. Padmé suddenly wondered how long Darth Vader had been the Emperor's shadow. She wasn't sure. At least four years, starting from when he made his first public appearance, maybe more. It suddenly occurred to her that maybe he was someone else first. Her heart leapt into her throat for the umpteenth time that day as she asked her next question.

"What is your name?"

"You addressed me by my name a moment ago, surely you haven't forgotten?" His response was oddly calm; Padmé would have expected his infamous temper to flare long ago. It was almost as if…did he _want_ her to keep asking questions?

"Surely Vader isn't your real name?" She tried to copy his inflection, but it came across weak, her voice wobbling a bit at the end.

"Vader has always been my name," he replied.

"And how long have you had it?" Vader's lack of anger gave Padmé a boost of confidence that allowed her to keep pushing. Her interested peaked the more he said, something about his responses seemed to egg her on.

"You are asking my age?"

"Yes," she replied, eyes flicking across his face again, stopping where his were meant to be. Everything felt surreal, like it wasn't really happening. Lord Vader would have killed anyone who dared speak to him so casually, wouldn't he?

"Age is irrelevant," he boomed. A moment passed in silence, and then he spoke again. "Enough of this questioning! You will be informed of anything else you need to know during the next week. I will escort you back to your quarters for now."

When Padmé returned to her room, she was surprised to see a healthy-looking lunch sitting on the table. She wondered who prepared it, but decided it didn't matter. She was hungry, so she would eat it. As she ate, Padmé's mind wouldn't quit replaying the events of the past hour. She had never thought of Darth Vader as anyone or anything other than vicious, a killer with supernatural powers and a desire to inflict pain; basically the physical manifestation of the empire itself. Their conversation, however, gave her reason to question this.

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Vader's character is a bit different, this will be explained throughout. Please review. I'm also still looking for a beta if anyone is interested! Thanks.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars or anything else you recognize. Except for Barivume monkeys…I think I made those up!

This chapter is kind of quick and not too in-depth because I wanted to get the wedding over with. The next few chapters should be more...slow paced (?) or whatever, I guess. And probably longer too.

Also, sorry for the delay, the holidays coupled with a temporary loss of memory stick will do that to you. Please R&R!

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When Padmé was younger, she and her friend Talma liked to make up stories about brave heroines who faced dangerous monsters and lived to tell about it, or about lonely princesses who found their true loves and changed the universe. Padmé and Talma never called them fairy tales though; instead, they called them survival stories. The girls made such stories up to get them through bad times. Survival stories were created when parents argued, when friends landed themselves in the medical center, or, more commonly for the young girls, when they had to endure a boring day at school. Though she was much older now, Padmé decided that she needed a survival story of sorts to get her through the day. So she let her mind wander as the seamstresses around her measured, poked, pulled, and prodded the fabric of her wedding dress.

In her mind, Padmé was safe at home. She was writing a simple letter to her old friend, telling her of the plans for her upcoming wedding. She was marrying a handsome and kind man from a far-off planet. They'd met while traveling and it had been love at first sight. He'd come from a poor background, but it didn't matter because…

"Ouch!" a sharp pin-prick in her thigh pulled Padmé from her daydream. She looked down at the dark haired woman who'd stabbed her.

"Sorry, milady," the woman murmured between pins held in her mouth. As the seamstress continued on with her work, Padmé let her mind drift again. This time, though, she couldn't conjure up some fantasy or silly scenario to hold her attention. Now, all she could think about was what was going to happen the day after tomorrow. She'd already been briefed on what to say if anyone from the press tried to question her—"No comment." She knew how the wedding was going to unfold, what they'd be saying and doing. Padmé wasn't overly worried about those things; instead she was worried about what would come after. That night. Though she was twenty-three, Padmé had almost no experience in the realm of relationships, physical or otherwise. Palo had been her first and only boyfriend, and the most they had ever done was share a quick peck on the lips once in the while. Padmé didn't feel ready for anything else; especially not with someone she didn't know. Especially not with someone she didn't like. She tried her best to push those thoughts aside; she had told herself before that she didn't have a choice. Her rational mind told her again that she had to be brave and carry on, but her subconscious knew things weren't going to be so easy.

"All finished! Why don't you have a look in the mirror?" another of the seamstresses asked, her voice too loud for the small room.

"Thank you," Padmé replied, grateful for the distraction from her thoughts. She turned to look in the full-length mirror behind her. The wedding dress was absolutely stunning. It was pure white, simple, but adorned with lace in all the right places. It was long and flowing, but somehow managed not to swallow up Padmé's petite frame. "It's beautiful," she said, reaching to run her hand across the fabric.

"Hands off!" The woman who had pricked Padmé snapped, reaching to grab her hand and stop it. "You'll mess it up. The dress is not completely finished—we've just got the modifications pinned up right now. You need to take it off and we should be able to have it ready for your final fitting tomorrow morning."

"I'm sorry," Padmé replied, her face heating up. She had felt like a misfit all week, forced to spend time with stuffy people and listen to things that made almost no sense to her. It was embarrassing.

"I will escort you back to your quarters now," another woman said, "so you need to get out of the dress." They helped her wiggle out of the wedding dress and put her simple dress from home back on. Padmé was grateful for the familiarity of it.

She spent the rest of the day alone, doing nothing more than failing to get interested in the shows on holovision and pining for home.

---_**Wedding Day**_---

"Mistress Padmé!" a mechanical voice called from somewhere near Padmé's ear. She was awake, but didn't want to admit it, for today was her wedding day. She closed her eyes tighter against the realization and soaked in the feeling of her pillow beneath her cheek. If only she could go back to last night, her wedding would still be thirteen hours away. She could sleep and dream and escape from reality, if only for a little while longer. "Mistress Padmé!" the voice tried again. Padmé knew it was the clumsy droid, C-3PO. He had become something of her alarm clock during the past week, but she didn't mind. It seemed to her that the protocol droid was the only friendly being in the entire palace. She hadn't seen Vader since their talk in his quarters, but the members of his staff, while polite, weren't exactly welcome-wagon material. They bossed and talked and informed, but nothing more. "Oh dear!" the dejected droid sighed at seeing Padmé still tucked under the covers.

"I'm awake," she grumbled.

"Oh thank the Maker!" he cried, joints clanking.

---_Two Hours Later_---

Padmé was escorted to the massive ballroom in which her wedding was to take place. There were some chairs set up at one end, three rows of six, split in the middle to make room for a small aisle. Two photographers stood behind the rows, cameras held at the ready. Padmé vaguely recognized some of the people occupying the seats from her debriefings-of-sorts over the past few days, but the only 'guest' she could actually name was Emperor Palpatine. He sat in the far left front chair, looking stiff and unaffected. The other guests were whispering and looking almost like normal wedding guests should look. Padmé felt a sudden pang of anger that her family couldn't be invited. Security reasons, one of the advisors had told her, but Padmé thought otherwise. Thinking of her family made her wonder if any of the people she didn't recognize could be Vader's family, parents even. _Someone gave birth to Darth Vader, _Padmé realized, but the thought still felt strange in her mind.

The Sith lord himself was standing in the front of the room, next to a well-dressed holy man. He was wearing his suit and mask, which came as no surprise. Their wedding wouldn't include the traditional "kiss the bride" directive, and for this Padmé was grateful.

No music played as she walked down the aisle, though her pounding heart provided a simple beat for her to step to. Padmé kept her mind blank as she walked, one foot in front of the other. If she didn't, surely she would bolt from the room.

It felt as if days had passed by the time Padmé reached her groom. Vader stood ramrod-still as Padmé stood in front of him. She turned toward the holy man, trying her best not to look up into Vader's mask, despite her sudden urge to do just that. _What are you thinking?_ Padmé thought. _Do you feel anything at all about this?_ Tears threatened to make their appearance, but Padmé managed to stifle them. If she started crying and ruined the wedding holos, they'd just have to do it all over again.

The holy man began to speak, but Padmé couldn't pay enough attention to understand what he was saying. It was all she could do to stay on her feet. She felt very hot all of a sudden, and instead of willing herself not to cry, Padmé found herself trying not to _sweat_. It didn't do much good, but it gave her something to focus on.

"I do," Vader's deep voice brought Padmé's attention back to the moment. She was supposed to have said it along with him. That, at least, she remembered.

"I do," she whispered quickly, hoping her second's delay would go unnoticed. The holy man resumed speaking, and Padmé sighed in relief. They wouldn't exchange rings or anything of the sort, so she knew that the ceremony was coming to an end.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the holy man said, stepping back. Cameras flashed, and Padmé felt a strong hand around her upper arm. It was Vader. He pulled her closer to him and she managed to bare her teeth at the cameras, squinting into their bright flashes.

"Could you try to look less like a Barivume monkey and more like a human being?" one of the cameramen hissed.

"Sorry," Padmé whispered, trying to smile more naturally. Unfortunately, the effort had the opposite effect. Tears began to slide down Padmé's cheeks and there was nothing she could do to stop them. More than any other time in her life, Padmé just wanted to go _home_. She lifted a shaking hand to her eyes and tried to wipe away the tears, but they just wouldn't stop.

"Great!" the cameraman fumed. "We need to start over. Where is the makeup artist?" The thought of doing everything again only made Padmé cry harder, the parody of a wedding was making her sick. She'd thought it wouldn't bother her, but she was very wrong. Some of the people in the audience made soothing sounds, others grunts of annoyance, but Padmé didn't care what they thought. Vader didn't move, his hand was still locked around Padmé's arm.

After a few seconds, a woman with a box of tissues and a palette of makeup approached Padmé, who cringed. The woman used brute force when applying makeup; Padmé's skin already felt bruised from the first application. Luckily, the woman didn't have time to do more than reach out with a tissue before Padmé was jerked out of her grasp.

"Enough," Vader boomed, looking towards the emperor for approval. "You have more than enough holos to release to the press."

"You're right, my friend," Palpatine replied with a wave of his hand. "Take your bride and go, I will wrap things up here."

"Thank you, my master," Vader replied, bowing. He was still gripping Padmé's arm and she could no longer feel anything below her elbow. She felt the sudden urge to start crying anew, though she couldn't explain why. Vader pulled her along behind him, out into a long hallway. She could hear cameras still flashing behind them.

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To be continued. I wasn't sure whether to end this chapter here or not, but I think it would have been too long if I hadn't. I hope this didn't seem too rushed or confusing to anyone. Things should get more exciting in the next chapter. Please review.


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